


Luffa Annual 1: Green Christmas

by Mike_Smith



Series: Luffa Annuals [1]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Christmas Special, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22009954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mike_Smith/pseuds/Mike_Smith
Summary: I wanted to do a Christmas special with Luffa, so I went with a Coffee Shop AU.  Probably mangled the trope, but I'm satisfied with it.
Series: Luffa Annuals [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078310





	Luffa Annual 1: Green Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.
> 
> Continuity Note: This story is set on a Monday.

_**[December 23, 2019. Kiyosu, Japan.]** _

There was a very light drizzle outside. It didn’t snow often in Kiyosu, and when it did, it usually happened in February, not December. 

“It’s a shame, y'know? This is a romantic time of year. Just once, it’d be nice to have a White Christmas without having to head out to Shirakawago or someplace up north.”

Yamcha was a regular at the Emerald Eye Cafe. He liked to chat while he paid for his order. Every year around Christmas, he would wax poetic about the lack of snowfall in the Aichi Prefecture, and speak idly about someday taking a trip to a ski resort in Hokkaido. Zatte didn’t know if he would ever make the trip. She only knew that he visited her store nearly every day, and she suspected that he enjoyed talking about snow and travel than the actual experience. He had a large iced milk coffee and a potato salad sandwich, which came to 1260 yen. 

Zatte never minded the lack of snow. It meant one less obstacle to the day-to-day routine. She didn’t know how people got along in snowy parts of the world, and she wasn’t terribly interested in finding out. Christmas was Christmas whether it snowed or not. The sound system in the cafe was playing Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony for the fourth time that day, and she had been selling Christmas cakes for the better part of the month. Half of her customers spoke excitedly of their plans for the holiday, and the absence of snow didn’t seem to discourage any of them. And then there was her “favorite” tradition of the season. 

“… might call her up tonight and see if she wants to check out the lights downtown. You know, keep it casual. How about you? You got any big plans for Christmas?” 

Zatte shook her head. "Maybe,“ she said. She had learned a long time ago that this was the best way to keep conversations short. Yamcha might have had unlimited time to talk, but she needed to head back to the kitchen at some point. Answering "no” only invited a polite argument. “Come on… I’m sure a young lady like yourself must have something to do on Christmas!” and so on. Answering “yes” was a lie, and it only invited the other person to press for details that didn’t exist. 

“Maybe, huh?” Yamcha replied. He finally fished the money out of his wallet and laid it on the counter. "Well, that’s better than nothing, after all. Hang in there.“ 

"Out of 1500 yen, 240 yen and your receipt,” Zatte said, handing him a few coins and a slip of paper. 

“Radical. Well, I’ll get out of your hair,” Yamcha said. “Thanks!”

She relaxed a bit when he left the store. Truthfully, he was one of the best customers–courteous, patient, and easy to please. Outside of work, he was probably an okay person to hang out with, if you liked hanging out with middle-aged civil servants. But in a customer service setting, life was all about getting the clients’ orders filled and getting them on their way with as little fuss as possible. Zatte didn’t think of herself as an introvert, but working retail seemed to have a funny way of making her feel like one for a few hours.

She supposed that it would be kind of fun to be chummy with the regulars, but the fact was that she had too many responsibilities behind the counter. She had to count the money later. The tables would need to be wiped down. Fresh muffins had to go on the display. The cook would probably need help, sooner or later. The customers saw this place as her home, and she was a hostess providing companionship in addition to food and a place to relax. That was the business model, of course, but it was still a business. 

She chided herself for feeling grumpy, but decided that she had at least kept an even keel through the morning. The key was to accept the bad moods when they came, so long as she put on a pleasant face for the customers. They had their own lives and their own problems, after all. It wasn’t fair to them–or profitable for her– to burden them with her own troubles. 

*******

Two hours later, she was reminded of one of those troubles. 

“You haven’t seen _Roshi_ at all today, have you?” 

A shiver ran down Zatte’s spine at the name. “Not today, why?” 

Krillin took his latte from her and shrugged slightly. "Well, let’s just say I need to talk to him about something,“ he said evenly. Krillin was a police officer, which tended to inform statements like these, but he still felt a need to be as discreet as possible. 

"Did something happen?” Zatte asked. 

“Hey, you’ve gotten really good at making pictures with the foam,” Krillin said. He pointed at the surface of his drink. “It looks just like that guy from _One Piece_.”

“Thanks,” Zatte said. “I’m still trying to get the hang of it, but luckily he’s not too tough to draw. He’s good practice.” 

“I oughta watch that show sometime,” Krillin said. "Everyone at the station keeps saying I sound like the guy, but I don’t even know anything about it. What’s his name? ‘Luffa’ or something. No, hold on, that was the girl who used to be your cook, wasn’t it?“ 

"Uh, yeah,” Zatte said. She was sorely tempted to use “maybe”, but that seemed kind of pointless here. Luffa was something of a legend at the Emerald Eye. Even if Krillin hadn’t remembered her name, he would still know her reputation, so there was no point pretending she didn’t exist. 

“Whatever happened to her, anyway?” Krillin asked. He took a sip of his latte and added: “Nothing against the new guy, but she made the _best_ danishes. And that egg salad! Boy, I could go for some of that right about now.” 

“Would you like me to get you–?” Zatte started to ask, but Krillin shook his head. 

“Nah, it just wouldn’t be the same,” he said. "Something about the spices. Paprika, I think. Better to live with the memories.“ 

"Understood,” Zatte said, though she really didn’t understand at all. 

“Anyway, I’ll be around for a little while, but if you see Roshi later, let me know, all right? And… don’t tell him I said anything.” 

“Of course,” Zatte said. As Krillin turned and went to his usual seat, Zatte wondered what sort of trouble that man had gotten into this time. It was always something with him. She wanted to believe that this time would be different, but somehow he always managed to get away with his bad behavior. 

Later, as luck would have it, Roshi did stumble into the cafe. “Well _hell-oooooooo_ , nurse!” he crooned as he staggered to the counter. The stench of alcohol on his breath was unmistakable. Public drinking was legal in Japan, though Roshi seemed to consider this license to make an ass of himself whenever he pleased. 

“Can I help you?” Zatte said, struggling to maintain her composure. 

“Well, you see,” Roshi said with a mischievous grin, “It’s my nose. It’s awfully _cold_ this time of year, and I was hoping I could… heh-heh-heh… _warm it up_.”

Zatte looked toward Krillin’s seat, ready and eager to call out to him. But it was empty. Had he already left? 

“Now I know this is a coffee shop and all, but I don’t think hot _beverages_ will do the trick here. No, sir. I was thinking more along the lines of…” He held up his hands to pantomime the act of shoving his face into a pair of large breasts. Then he started smiling, like he had just suggested the most brilliant idea, ever.

Zatte wasn’t sure that what she felt for this man qualified as hate, or pity, or revulsion. She only knew that he was a pathetic old man, who seemed to think his crudeness was quaint, or charming in some way. He was sorely mistaken, and she wanted him out of the store, permanently. Did that mean she wanted him dead? The thought of this worried Zatte, more for her own sake than for his. 

“Sir, if you want something, you’ll need to place an order,” she said through clenched teeth. Below the countertop, her right hand clenched into a fist.

“Oh, well in that case,” Roshi said, “I’d like to buy a pair of… heh-heh-heh… _panties_ please! Used ones, of course!” 

Zatte wanted him dead. If that reflected negatively on her character, then so be it. If Roshi had a heart attack and died right in front of her, she was sure she would feel relieved instead of sad. It wasn’t even the harassment so much as the fact that he used the same five or six lines _every time he came into the store_. He wants to “puff-puff”, he wants someone’s panties, he wants to have coffee in the ladies’ restroom, he wants to take showers with any woman in the store, and so on. Roshi embodied the absolute worst qualities of customers. He seemed to thrive on the power of going into shops and forcing cashiers and waitstaff to listen to his crude and pointless jabber, precisely because they had little choice but to put up with it. 

And then, just as Roshi was telling the one about putting his grimy hands on someone’s buttocks, Krillin stepped out of the men’s room. "Oh, _there_ you are,“ he said as he noticed Roshi at the counter. 

"Eh? Krillin? What are you doing here?” Roshi asked. His jovial tone was suddenly gone. He _almost_ sounded sober. Almost.

“We got another complaint about you,” Krillin said with a sigh. “That maid cafe you keep messing around with.”

“Th-that was just a joke!” Roshi protested. "Can’t an old man have a bit of harmless fun anymore?“

"That girl you were picking on didn’t think it was so harmless,” Krillin grumbled. “Look, I have to take you down to the station.”

“What? You can’t do that!” He tried to run out the door, but Krillin caught up to him before he could get there. 

“Just settle down,” Krillin said. “Don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.”

This only made Roshi even more difficult than he already was. Eventually, Krillin managed to get the handcuffs on him, and he frog-marched Roshi out the door. By the time they left, everyone in the shop was staring. With Krillin and Roshi now gone, that left them no one to look at but Zatte. 

“Uh, sorry for the disturbance,” she said awkwardly. She wasn’t sure how to feel about what had just happened, but she hoped that this meant Roshi wouldn’t be back for a long time. That should have made her feel more at ease, but somehow she felt more tense than before.

*******

More than anything, Zatte just wanted some normal customers. She was starting to miss Yamcha, but then Tien entered the store, and she felt a sense of relief. Of all of her regulars, he was one of the easiest to deal with. 

“Hello,” he said evenly. 

“How can I help you, sir?” she asked pleasantly. 

He gestured to the smaller man who had followed him into the store. Zatte had never seen a little person before, but she was pretty sure this man was small enough to qualify as one. 

“This is my brother, Chiaotzu,” he explained. “I’ve been showing him around while he’s in town.” 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” she said with a slight bow. 

Chiaotzu did not move. 

“I get my coffee here after work,” Tien said to him. "Black, please. No sugar.“

"Of course,” Zatte said. "And for your brother?“

"Ice cream cafe au lait,” Chiaotzu said after a pregnant pause. He never blinked. He just stared at Zatte as though gazing into her soul. 

“Certainly. Your total is 1140 yen.”

They paid and she brought the drinks to their table a few minutes later. Zatte forgot about them after that, until she happened to look up while counting the money in the register. Chiaotzu was still staring at her. His expression was completely neutral. 

What made it even stranger was how normally Tien behaved by contrast. He was facing away from Zatte, but he was moving his head and arms like anyone having a normal conversation. If he even noticed Chiaotzu staring past him, he didn’t seem to care. 

She tried to ignore him, but this proved more difficult than she imagined. Every time she happened to glance in his direction, there he was, still staring, never moving. The cup in front of him was already empty. At some point he must have drank his au lait, but Zatte had no idea when that could have happened. 

What was it about his eyes? Those bottomless, pitiless eyes? Looking at them just made her realize how pale his complexion was, like one of those stories about a vampire secretly living among humans. She was grateful for the next few customers who came in, as they gave her something else to think about, if only for a few minutes at a time. 

She turned away from the counter to tidy up her workspace, and when she looked around again, he was suddenly standing there, glaring at her through the display glass. 

“Orange cranberry muffins,” Chiaotzu said. 

“Huh?” Zatte said, trying to hide how much he had startled her. 

He pressed his face up to the glass. By this time of day, the display case was nearly empty, as the demand for baked goods was too low to justify making more. "Do you still sell them? Or did you just run out?“ Chiaotzu asked. 

"Um, we stopped selling them,” Zatte said. "We, uh, changed cooks a while ago. So we changed the menu. I’m sorry.“

Chiaotzu never took his eyes off her, and after a long pause, he finally uttered: "Oh. That’s too bad.”

“There you are,” Tien said as he walked up to the counter. "Come on, Chiaotzu, we need to get going.“

Chiaotzu turned and followed him out the door, and Zatte was never so grateful to see the back of someone’s head. He was bald, so she half expected a second pair of eyes to be there waiting for her. Instead, he turned back toward her, just as he stepped through the door. 

"Thanks for the coffee,” he said, though his expression looked more like he should be accusing Zatte of desecrating his own empty grave.

When he was finally gone, she glanced down at the display case. Luffa used to restock it herself, multiple times a day. It was a welcome distraction from the rigors of the day, even though she only popped out of the kitchen for a minute or two. She would have whispered something like “Get a load of _that_ guy,” to her, and they would have shared a quiet chuckle over it. 

But Luffa was gone, and the new cook was fine, even if he wasn’t quite as good, or fast, or popular with the customers. It made the workday slower, but Zatte was determined not to let that get in her way. She considered herself a survivor, someone who could adapt and endure anything life threw at her. All that mattered was getting through the day and closing up the shop, and then getting through tomorrow, and the day after, and so on. She didn’t need Luffa, or anyone else to do that. 

At least, that was what she told herself. 

*******

Keda usually got home from school by 3:45 P.M. Today, she returned an hour early. Zatte wanted to know why, but there were too many customers for her to ask, and Keda walked straight through the swinging gate at the counter, and into the door that led to the upstairs apartment where they lived. 

Ten minutes later, she came back down, having swapped her school uniform for a blue “Emerald Eye” apron. Under that, she wore one of her collection of T-shirts commemorating various professional wrestlers. This one said “NIGHTMARE ANGELS” in English, with the words “KNEE THE ELITE” in smaller text. Zatte was grateful that the apron kept the customers from seeing the entire shirt, and she hoped most of them didn’t know enough English to be able to read it and wonder what it meant. She was pretty sure Keda would try to explain it if someone asked, but no one did, and Zatte was grateful for this as well. 

“Need some help?” Keda asked. 

“Why are you out of school so early?” Zatte asked as she finished handing someone their change. 

“They let us out early,” Keda said. “It’s the Emperor’s Birthday.” 

“Not anymore,” Zatte said. “The Emperor abdicated, remember? The new Emperor’s birthday won’t be until February.”

“Well, we convinced the school that it wasn’t fair,” Keda said with a shrug. “I mean, December 23rd is a good place for a holiday, isn’t it? Right before Christmas. The new Emperor can’t help being born in February, but it’s not right that we don’t have an Emperor’s Birthday holiday in 2019. It just seems disrespectful, doesn’t it? So the student council talked it over with the faculty, and we agreed to let out two hours early as a compromise.”

“Why can’t you just say you cut classes like all the other kids?” Zatte grumbled. 

“Because that’s not what happened,” Keda said. “Can I help it if the President of the Student Council likes my ideas? Can I help it if the faculty is really open to suggestions?” 

She picked up a small cup and put less than fifty milliliters of hazelnut coffee in it from the dispenser behind the cash register. Keda smelled it, but decided it was too hot to drink. This was part of her after-school ritual. 

“I wish you’d stop doing that,” Zatte said. 

“Everyone says it’s an acquired taste,” Keda said. "I’m almost twelve, Zatte. In a few years, boys are gonna want to take me to coffee shops. I mean, not _this_ one, that’d be kind of awkward. Getting waited on by your own sister. But _a_ coffee shop, and I need to be ready to drink coffee by then.“ 

"Now if only I could get you to put that kind of dedication into your schoolwork,” Zatte said. 

“Oh, I’ve got that under control,” Keda said. "You see my grades, right? I’ve got a high school picked out and everything. But none of that matters if a boy buys me a coffee and I start gagging at the first sip.“

As she said this, Keda decided her drink was cool enough, and she carefully raised it to her lips. She winced, but managed to swallow it, though the face she made indicated that it was an unpleasant achievement. "Ugh. Okay… okay… I’m getting there.”

“Why would you want to go on a coffee date anyway?” Zatte asked. “Just tell a boy that you work at a cafe and you’d rather see a movie instead.” 

“That’s the beauty of it!” Keda explained. “If he takes me to a coffee shop, it’s like I’m on my own turf. It gives me the advantage. I can say all sorts of things during the date, like how they get the caffeine out of decaf, or how the cappuccino machine works. They’ll think I’m super-sophisticated that way. If I’m at a movie I’m totally out of my element. You really need to read more Sun Tzu, Zatte.” 

“Sun Tzu?” Zatte asked, bewildered. “Are you trying to date a boy or kill him?”

“Never mind me,” Keda said. "I’ll bet _you’re_ excited today.“ 

"About what?” Zatte asked. 

“About Luffa, dummy,” Keda said. 

“Luffa who?” Zatte grumbled. “You mean our ex-cook who walked out on us and barely ever stops by?”

“Oh, come on,” Keda said. "You know how busy she is, and she’s on the road constantly.“ 

"And now that she just happens to be in the area, I’m supposed to be giddy about it?” Zatte asked. "It’s not like she’s coming to see _me_ , Keda. _You’re_ her biggest fan.“ 

"Come on, you miss her too,” Keda said. “She’s your best friend.”

“No, she’s not,” Zatte said. “I mean, of course she’s my friend, but not like… Don’t you have homework to do?”

“Nope,” Keda said. 

“Then shouldn’t you be watching your _show?_ ” Zatte asked. 

“It doesn’t start until five,” Keda said. 

“All right then, go bus some tables,” Zatte said, and then tossed a washcloth at her. Keda nodded with a shrug and then headed off to begin her assignment.

*******

Exactly two hours and fifteen minutes later, Keda had vanished from the shop. Zatte was never sure if she was doing a good job raising her little sister. It often felt like Keda was raising herself, and acting out just enough to make Zatte feel like she was involved in the process. The girl was extremely smart for her age, and she helped out with the cafe, so it seemed unfair to criticize her for being nosy or presumptuous. It was hard to tell whether she was being too strict on Keda or not strict enough. 

No, Keda wasn’t what had her on edge. It was Luffa. Zatte did miss her, but not in a way she particularly cared to admit to anyone else. And with Luffa away from the cafe, essentially out of their lives, it seemed pointless to admit anything now. Better to go on like it hadn’t mattered. Better to be strong and independent, and hope that everyone accepted the image of Zatte as an independent, responsible shopkeeper. It wasn’t always a satisfying life, but at least it was her own, and it couldn’t be taken away by someone when they moved on to other things. 

As much as she appreciated the new cook, she had to suppress a certain resentment towards him. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t have the same level of culinary talent. Or that he didn’t have that same wild look in his eye. Or that the apron didn’t frame the small of his back the right way. Or (let’s face it) that he was a 'he.’ So Zatte was never sure if she was too hard on the guy, or if she was too easy on him because she was trying not to be too hard on him. Now that she thought about it, she had the same trouble with Luffa back in the day, for completely opposite reasons. 

It was distracting and depressing, and she wasn’t sure how she would feel about it, and she just wanted some work to do so she could think about something else. 

*******

Gradually, more customers came into the store as offices started to close for the evening. It always struck Zatte as odd that people would want coffee so late in the day, but she supposed that they were all trying to fight off the tiredness from the workday, even if it cost them a few hours of sleep later in the night. 

By 8:00 P.M., Zatte had convinced herself that she had nearly forgotten about whats-her-name, and she had settled into a steady routine of taking orders, making change, and handing out drinks. Then a middle-aged couple threw off the entire rhythm. The wife had been very concise with her order, but her husband was holding up the line while he tried to decide what he wanted. 

“Now, lemme see here,” he said as he looked at the menu and thoughtfully rubbed his chin with his thumb. “Oh, you’ve got pork fillet cutlets? I’ll take two of them, and…. the egg sandwich… and… hmmm. Wow, you’ve got _chili dogs_? That’s awesome! Three chili dogs, please!”

“Um… will there be anything else?” Zatte asked, unsure if she really wanted to know. His wife seemed to feel the same way. 

“Goku, you’ll never be able to eat all of that,” she groaned. 

“Sure I will!” he insisted. “I had a light lunch today, so…”

The look on his wife’s face suggested that this was not even remotely true. Zatte decided it was better to just ring them up and get their money before she could talk him out of it. 

“It will take some time to prepare all of this, you understand,” Zatte said to Goku. 

“Aw, don’t worry about that,” Goku said. "Take as long as you need. Me 'n’ Chi-Chi will be so busy playing with the rabbits that we probably won’t even notice!“

"Rabbits?” Zatte asked. 

“Where do ya keep those guys, anyway?” Goku asked. He began looking around in every direction, which made all of the cowlicks in his hair that much harder to ignore. “Oh, crap, we forgot to order lettuce so we’d have somethin’ to feed 'em!”

Chi-Chi’s face began to turn red, and Zatte finally began to understand what he was talking about.

“Sir,” Zatte said, “This isn’t a rabbit cafe.”

“It’s _not_?” Goku asked. “Well, you’ve at least got a cat or something, right?”

“No, we just serve coffee and food.”

“Goku, we _talked about this_ on the way here…” Chi-Chi grumbled.

Goku crossed his arms and lowered his head, and it was hard to tell if he was pouting or contemplating his predicament. “Darn. Well, you still got chili dogs. I guess that’ll just have to do.”

“I… apologize for the inconvenience,” Zatte said. She had never meant that sentence less than she did in this moment. 

*******

Ten minutes later, Keda was downstairs in the shop again, sitting at one of the booths and scribbling notes while she read from a textbook. When asked, she would insist that this wasn’t homework that had been assigned, and she was simply working ahead in anticipation of future assignments. Zatte was too exasperated with this explanation to dispute it. By now, business had slowed down considerably, with only a few stragglers coming in for quick to-go orders. At one of the tables, Goku was still finishing the feast he had ordered while his wife played a game on her phone and tried not to look too embarrassed. Finally, the couple got up to leave, and as they did, the doors swung open, and someone else entered the shop.

“Luffa!” Keda shouted. She practically jumped out of the booth and ran up to meet her. 

“Hey, kid!” Luffa replied. She had been holding a gym bag, but dropped it so she could return Keda’s embrace. 

Zatte had been unloading the dishwasher when Luffa entered, and she looked over to see her. Luffa was wearing a pair of zubaz–baggy gym pants with a zebra-striped pattern–and a satin jacket with a steakhouse logo printed on the front. There was a smear of green around her lips, and even her teeth had a green stain on them. Once, Luffa had worn her hair long, but now it was cut very short and seemed to stand on end. And she had colored it an unnatural shade of yellow, far more vivid than blonde. 

“You beat Ribrianne!” Keda said excitedly. "That puts your score up to 10 points!“

"Hey, don’t sound so surprised,” Luffa said. 

“I thought she had you near the end,” Keda said. “You looked like you were nearly out of it, and then you reversed that suplex into a head-scissors… how did you _do_ that?”

Luffa puffed out her chest and jabbed her sternum with her thumb. "What do you _mean_ how? I’m the Golden Ace, aren’t I?“

"Well yeah,” Keda said, “but you lost to Hop last week.”

Luffa grimaced like she had accidentally swallowed a bug. “She _cheated_. That doesn’t _count_.”

“Well, the tournament rules say it does count, but now that you’ve got ten points, you’ve got a strong chance of winning. There’s still some tiebreaker scenarios to consider, but personally I like your chances.”

“Ugh,” Luffa said. “I’m glad _you_ can make sense of the scores. You know, these round-robin tournaments are great, right until you have to figure out whether you’re winning or losing. Is Kale still in the running, or did she get eliminated?”

Keda pointed to a group of armchairs at one corner of the cafe. "Come on,“ she said, "I’ll walk you through the scenarios.” 

Luffa followed her, waving to Zatte as she passed by. As she did this, she nearly bumped into Goku as he and his wife were on their way to the door. They exchanged a look, and for a split second, Zatte was worried that it might become awkward. Luffa almost looked like she was sizing him up for a fight. She couldn’t read Goku at all, but she assumed he was mostly intrigued by her loud costume. 

For some reason, the sound system in the store was playing a metal cover of “Carol of the Bells”. Zatte didn’t know how that had gotten added to the holiday playlist. 

“Cool hair!” Goku finally said. 

“Hey, thanks,” Luffa said. 

And then they went their separate ways. 

The music system abruptly switched to “Here Comes Santa Claus,” perhaps the most tension-free Christmas song of all.

“Now then,” Luffa said to Keda as she collapsed into one of the armchairs. "Let’s get down to business.“

Keda was tapping a notepad with a pen, looking more like Luffa’s accountant than a young fan. "Right, well, obviously, if you can win all of your next matches, you’ll be a shoo-in to win the tournament. But even if you lose two more, there’s still a chance of squeaking by. The only thing I’m worried about is you tying with Hop.”

“She _cheated_ ,” Luffa grumbled. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Keda said. "If you both tie on points, she wins the tiebreaker, since she has a win over you. But if Ribrianne beats _her_ , that’ll set up a possible four-way tie with Videl. Then you’d win, because you’d have the best record among the four of you.“

"Sounds like I should just win the rest of my matches,” Luffa said after digesting what Keda had said. 

“Just _promise me_ you’ll stay in the ring when you face Sorrel,” Keda pleaded. “She always tricks her opponents into getting counted out, and I know how much you like to fight in the crowd.”

“What I _like_ ,” Luffa said with a sadistic grin, “is having the referee out of my way. If Sorrel thinks a twenty-count will save her from me, then she’s already lost.”

“But if you get counted out, you could lose the tournament!” Keda protested. "Then you won’t get a shot at the All-Pacific Championship!“

"Hah! If someone like Sorrel can beat me,” Luffa said, “then I don’t deserve the title. It’s that simple. Besides, she’s not the only one with a trick up her sleeve.” She pointed at her mouth, which had smears of green dye around it. 

“When are you gonna teach _me_ how to do the poison mist?” Keda asked. 

“I keep telling you, kid,” Luffa said, “it’s a sacred technique. I can’t just teach it to _anybody_.”

Zatte approached them and cleared her throat to get their attention. "Sorry to interrupt this strategy conference, but I thought the 'Golden Ace’ might be hungry.“ She held up a chicken salad sandwich and a to-go cup of coffee, which Luffa accepted with relish. 

"You’re a lifesaver,” Luffa said with a smile. "I haven’t eaten since before the show started.“

"You’d think SPARKING! could afford catering for their events,” Zatte said. 

“They do,” Luffa said as she unwrapped the sandwich. “I just don’t like to eat so close to bell time. Makes me nervous. Too many stories out there about guys pooping their pants during matches.” 

“Ewwww!” Keda said. "Really?“ 

"I’ve never run into it myself,” Luffa said, “but you hear about it. I almost threw up during a match, so I believe it.”

“Was it because you swallowed posion mist?” Keda asked. 

“Huh? Oh, no way,” Luffa said with her mouth full. "I… well, I built up an immunity to that a long time ago.“

Keda began scratching her chin thoughtfully. "Immunity… so that’s it.”

“What do I owe you?” Luffa asked Zatte. 

“It’s on the house,” Zatte replied. 

“Oh, come on,” Luffa said, “I’m making halfway decent money these days.” 

Zatte pointed at Luffa’s yellow-and-black striped pants. “Then why are you dressed like you’re doing your laundry?” 

“Hey, these are high fashion in my line of work,” Luffa said with a smile. She propped her black boots on the ottoman in front of the armchair. There was an image of a playing card printed on the sides of each boot. “Check it out,” she said. "They liked my match in Osaka so much that they paid me a little extra, and I used it to get these babies. I can afford to live it up at the Emerald Eye Cafe.“

"Don’t worry about it. Half my regulars keep asking if you’ll ever come back to the kitchen,” Zatte said. "You did such a good job while you were here that I’m still making money off of it now.“ 

"How’s the new guy working out?” Luffa asked, glancing toward the general direction of the kitchen.

“He’s fine,” Zatte said. “He’s not as good as you, but who could be?”

“You know, that’s what I think about you,” Luffa said as she took a swig of her coffee. "I mean, there’s a cafe near the dojo. It’s just not the same.“

"Right.” 

“Yeah.” 

There was a long silence, and then Keda nudged Luffa in the arm. "Hey, do you really think you can beat Kale next Saturday?“ she asked. 

"Are you saying I _can’t_?” Luffa asked in a haughty tone. 

“I’m just saying you can’t take her lightly,” Keda said. "That running knee she does is nothing to sneeze at.“ 

"Running knee,” Luffa scoffed. “Let me tell _you_ what I’ll do about that running knee…”

“I need to get back to the register,” Zatte said, though she doubted anyone was listening. 

*******

Closing time at the Emerald Eye wasn’t for another hour, but the kitchen shut down at nine. The cook was saying his goodbyes to Zatte before leaving, when he happened to notice Luffa and Keda chatting. 

“Is she some kind of celebrity?” he asked. 

“Huh? No, that’s Luffa,” Zatte said. 

“Oh. What’s with the hair?” he asked. "She looks like a pop idol.“

"She’s a professional wrestler,” Zatte explained. “She quit working here to go work for the SPARKING! promotion. They did a show tonight in Okazaki, so she came by to visit.”

“Huh. I thought she became a famous chef or something like that.”

“No, as good a cook as she is, she only worked her to make ends meet until she could break into the business,” Zatte said. “And she’s done pretty well. I read on the internet that they’re planning to make her the next All-Pacific Champion.”

“I thought you have to win the championship in a match,” he said. 

Zatte turned and gave him a dirty look. “It’s fake,” she said. “They decide who wins and loses ahead of time.”

“Oh! Right,” he said. “I guess it’s like getting a promotion at an office job, then. You must be happy for her.”

“I don’t know that it matters,” Zatte said. "This is the first time she’s come back since she left. If Keda wasn’t such a big fan of this stuff, she probably wouldn’t even bother. She’s moved on. I heard she’s dating some referee there. She’s got a whole new life on the road now.“

"Well, I’d go over and pay my respects, but my parents are pretty upset that I haven’t called home in a while, so…” 

Zatte nodded and waved. "Yeah, sure. See you tomorrow, Trunks.“

Less than five seconds after he had walked out the door, a man walked in and asked for Christmas cake. Zatte stifled a groan and explained that the kitchen was closed for the night. This was spelled out on the cafe’s front door, but no one ever really read that as they walked in. 

*******

At 10 P.M. Zatte switched the sign in the window to "CLOSED”, and began turning off several of the lights in the store, until only the section above the armchairs was illuminated. The Christmas lights on the trees outside were easier to see this way, and they lent a pinkish, purplish tint to the inside of the cafe. Finally, Zatte walked over to Luffa’s chair and took a bottle of soda out of her apron. She slung the apron over the chair opposite Luffa’s, then collapsed into it with a heavy sigh. 

“Long day?” Luffa asked. It wasn’t until she saw her up close that Zatte noticed how tired Luffa looked. Keda had gone to bed a half-hour earlier, leaving Luffa by herself. She looked like she wanted to fall asleep in the chair, but was too excited from the day’s events.

“I’ve had worse,” Zatte said, “but that was back when I had you on the staff.” 

“Well, I’m off for a few days,” Luffa said. "I could give you guys a hand.“

"Tempting,” Zatte said. “Keda would be thrilled, but I couldn’t impose on you like that. You’ve probably got plans for Christmas Eve.”

“Not really,” Luffa said. “That’s why I came here. I’ve been touring for so long that I’m not really sure what to do with this much free time.”

There was a hiss as Zatte opened the bottle on her soda, and she raised an eyebrow at Luffa’s words. "I thought you and that referee…“

Luffa looked confused for a moment, then she threw back her head and laughed. "No, no, no,” she finally said. "That was an angle. Part of a storyline to make people think I had an unfair advantage. It was kind of dumb, but sometimes you gotta do what the office wants to show 'em you’re a team player.“

"Oh,” Zatte said, somewhat embarrassed. “Well, it _looked_ so convincing…”

“Well that’s the idea,” Luffa said. “Wait, have you been watching my matches? I thought you didn’t go for that stuff.”

“Well, Keda watches them all the time anyway,” Zatte explained. "And she’s got that subscription to the on-demand service on the internet. It’s about the only time we get to see you anymore, you know? Even if it’s while you’re spitting green stuff all over people.“

"Keda asked me to teach her how to do the poison mist,” Luffa said. “I told her I couldn’t, because the recipe for the poison is too dangerous. Merry Christmas.”

“Thanks,” Zatte said. She glanced around at the walls, imagining what they would look like with green food coloring on every surface. "When are you gonna tell her the truth about all that stuff, anyway?“

"What, that it’s fake?” Luffa asked with a smile. “I dunno, she’s still pretty young. I’ll tell her next year.”

“That’s what you said _last_ year,” Zatte said. “I’d do it myself, but she wouldn’t believe me. She’s a smart kid, you know. Sooner or later, she’ll figure it out on her own, and that might be kind of awkward for you.”

Luffa settled back in her chair and looked down at the empty cup in her hands. "I don’t know, it’s cool to have someone I know who believes it’s all real,“ she said. "I’ll have to give that up eventually, but it’s tough to let go. You saw how excited she was when I came in.”

“Yeah…” Zatte said. She took a swig from her soda and propped her feet up on the ottoman that lay between their chairs, so that their ankles alternated in an orderly row across the cushion.

“So are you really winning the title?” Zatte asked after a long pause. In spite of Luffa’s exhaustion, her eyes lit up at the question.

“Keep it under your hat,” Luffa said, lowering her voice as though worried someone might overhear, “but _maybe_. That show’s six weeks out, and a lot could change before then. If someone gets injured or something, they might have to call an audible and change the card around. But they definitely want to put the title on me at some point.” She held up both hands and crossed her fingers for emphasis.

“That’s great,” Zatte said. “I mean, it is, right? If the matches are predetermined, does the championship even matter?”

“Oh, it’s a _big_ honor,” Luffa said, visibly excited at the chance to explain it. "I mean, it’s a secondary belt, and SPARKING! isn’t that big a promotion, but still. It’s kind of like an actor winning an award. The people in charge are saying they think I’m good enough to deserve that spot on the show. I mean, two years ago I was still helping the crew put the ring together. I still can’t believe it.“

"I can,” Zatte said. “You always put everything you have into whatever you do. I always saw it when you worked here, so it doesn’t shock me that other people can see it in you now.”

“I’ve missed this place,” Luffa said wistfully. "That’s the only trouble with being on tour so much. I don’t get to _cook_ as often. I saw a place selling Christmas cakes on the way here and you’ve probably been selling them all month without me…“

"Well, if you really _want to_ ,” Zatte said, “you could give us a hand in the kitchen tomorrow. I mean, if you _really_ didn’t have any other plans for Christmas Eve…”

“Nope, I got nothing,” Luffa said. "What about you? Keda and I could keep an eye on the place so you can leave early.“ 

"We’re closing early anyway,” Zatte said. “Business usually drops off pretty sharply on Christmas Eve night, so we might as well. Besides, I can’t have you waiting tables with that crazy hair. You’d scare the customers.”

“Huh? Oh, right,” Luffa said. “You know, I’ve been wearing it like this for so long I’d gotten used to it. You don’t like my look?”

“It’s just… very bright,” Zatte said. "It’s not so bad up close, when I can see your face better, but it almost doesn’t look like real hair. It looks rough, like hay.“

"It’s really not,” Luffa said. She tugged on some of it to demonstrate. “I don’t even put much stuff in it to make it stick up like it does. Here, feel this.” 

Zatte shrugged and moved to the seat beside Luffa’s, where she reached for the same part of her hair that Luffa was holding. Their fingers brushed against each other, and neither of them seemed entirely sure how to react to the sensation. 

“Huh…” Zatte said as she gently touched Luffa’s head. "That’s not at all what I expected.“ 

"Yeah,” Luffa said, somewhat awkwardly. “It’s not so different from that red streak you’ve got in your hair, I bet.”

She reached out for the side of Zatte’s bob, and rubbed a strand of it between her fingers. “Why are you blushing?” Luffa asked. 

“Oh… uh, I probably stood up too quickly,” Zatte said. 

“Oh…”

They heard someone outside walking past the storefront, and suddenly became very self-conscious of holding onto each other’s hair, so they quickly let go, and looked away from each other. 

“So uh…” Luffa said. "If you’re _not_ doing anything tomorrow night…“

"I mean, I’ve got a reservation at Kentucky Fried Chicken, but that’s it, really,” Zatte said. "Keda talked me into it. Said I ought to do _something_ , even if I was alone. But if you wanted to come along…“

"Sure,” Luffa said. "I haven’t had KFC in ages. And you know, it’d give me a chance to see the lights around town.“ 

"They’ve got a new thing at the mall,” Zatte said. "Well, not _new_ new. It was there last year, but you wouldn’t have seen it then.“

"That sounds fine,” Luffa said. “Yeah.”

*******

Behind the front counter, Keda observed her sister and Luffa through the glass of the display case. It wasn’t an ideal vantage, and she could barely hear what they were saying, but it was enough for her to get the gist of things, and so far things looked promising. 

There were still a lot of things that could go wrong. Long distance relationships were always a challenge, and the professional wrestling business wasn’t exactly known for fidelity, but these were factors Keda couldn’t control, and at some point it would be up to the two of them to make things work as best they could. It was enough that Keda had gotten them to this point– studying Luffa’s tour schedule, playing the eager fan, and providing Luffa a useful excuse to visit right before a romantic holiday. Really, the only thing she had been worried about was that the two women would have seen through Keda’s “wrestling-is-real” act, but they were grown-ups, and they didn’t know an eleven-year-old from an seven-year-old, not when you really got down to it.

Keda noticed Zatte reaching for Luffa’s hair a second time, and decided that was her cue to withdraw. She was playing matchmaker, not spying on them, after all. Besides, Keda would have to rest up for tomorrow so she could help out in the store tomorrow, in order to make sure neither of them were too tired for their date. 

Quietly, Keda made her way back to the door that led to their second-story apartment. As she ascended the stair, she imagined how great things would be next Christmas, with a SPARKING! All-Pacific Champion in the family. Maybe then, _finally_ , Luffa would teach her how to spit Poison Mist.

 **[THE END]**


End file.
